


Invisible Tugging Threads

by HappyJuicyfruit



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Derek, BAMF Stiles, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Misunderstandings, Post-Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Post-Possession, Scott is a Good Friend, Sterek Reverse Bang, Worried Sheriff Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 08:30:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15166739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappyJuicyfruit/pseuds/HappyJuicyfruit
Summary: Stiles knows the Nogitsune is gone. He knows he is himself again, and that no one is controlling his brain anymore. He knows he is back to being 100% human.He knows all of this... but he has no idea what's happening to him now.--As he stared at the strange substance on his fingers his hands started to shake. He took a breath, and tried to calm himself down before he had a panic attack.Suddenly, sparks flew from his fingers.Stiles yelped, scrambled backward and hit the wall. He held his fingers up higher for a closer look. Maybe he imagined it?More sparkles flickered, dancing between his fingertips. When he curled his hands into fists, the sparks buzzed around the edges.Stiles stared at his hands until they stopped acting like broken wall sockets.





	Invisible Tugging Threads

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! 
> 
> This story is for Sterek Reversebang 2018! I was paired up with the lovely originfire, with their amazing and crazy picture that you can find here: https://originfire.tumblr.com/post/175549144663/my-second-art-piece-for-sterekreversebang-2018 
> 
> My wonderful beta sarcasmandgrowls helped make this story make sense! Thank you lovely! 
> 
> I don't think I need any warnings for this one, let me know in the comments if you find anything you think I should have a warning for though! 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy :)
> 
>  

 

_Part 1: Progress_

 

Stiles groaned when the alarm beside him started to blare. He hadn’t been able to fall asleep until 3, and then woke up from a nightmare at 6.

 

Now it was 7, and he needed to push himself out of bed so he could force his way through another day at school. Another day of fake smiles and attempting to look sympathetic whenever someone brought up Allison or Aiden.

 

Sympathetic always worked better than his initial reaction- all consuming guilt. People didn’t want to deal with your guilt when they were grieving, and Stiles already hurt his pack enough…. so forced sympathy it was.

 

He fell out of bed more than stepped out, but either way he still made it to his pile of clothes on the floor.  He grabbed a shirt, not bothering to check it before slipping it on over his head. He stumbled to the bathroom with his eyes still closed.

 

What had Scott told him yesterday? Try to look on the brightside?

 

Well, on the bright side, Scotty boy, at least Stiles was able to force himself out of bed this week. Last week he wasn’t even been able to manage that roll to the floor.

 

So.. progress?

 

He brushed his teeth sitting on the floor, but at least he brushed his teeth, right? He’d forgotten, yesterday. And the day before.

 

Progress.

 

—

 

School was a whole new nightmare. He only paid attention to about half of the things his teachers said, and the pack was clingy in their attempts to help.

 

Stiles understood it, really he did! Everyone was grieving and licking their wounds from the Nogitsune. It made sense they would all want to stick together, bond over the tragedy that is their lives.

 

The only problem was Stiles is exhausted, okay? He can’t handle the 21 questions. He didn’t want to reminisce about Allison and the ‘good ole days’ of a few months ago. Of course they all understood when Stiles fell asleep at lunch while everyone talked, but it just made him feel worse.

 

Cora, at least, looked just as annoyed about it as he felt.  

 

Yeah, Cora. The Hales decided to stick around after all; though, God knows why. Derek even started working on rebuilding the old Hale house in the woods, so apparently they now have long term plans to stay.

 

Again, Stiles had no idea why anyone would have long term plans for _Beacon_ _Hills_ \- the town of _horror_.

 

Stiles himself had zero long term plans for Beacon Hills… well, he had zero long term plans for anything. Plans go out the window when he was like 98% sure was going to die two weeks ago, but he knows if he did have long term plans they would not involve Beacon Hills.

 

They just wouldn’t.

 

—

 

The school day ended. Scott tried to convince him to hang out, but Stiles successfully weaseled his way out.

 

He napped until his dad got home, then shoved a frozen lasagna into the oven.

 

His dad did a lot of shoulder patting and head rubbing now. It’s like he’s worried if he doesn’t touch Stiles at least 10 times a day, Stiles might disappear into the void again.

 

Stiles didn’t mention it; he kind of liked the new added affection.

 

They ate in front of the TV, talking minimally in front of the sports channel. His dad did the dishes.

 

He went to bed early, but lied awake until 3am again.

 

He did not look forward to tomorrow.

 

—

 

The next day he managed to sit up and step out of bed instead of roll out of it.

He managed to grab a clean shirt from his drawers.

He managed to brush his teeth standing up.

 

Progress.

 

—

 

At school he raised his hand to answer a question and Lydia almost cried. He patted her on the back awkwardly.

 

At lunch he brought up lacrosse without being prompted.  Isaac beamed at him as he talked about the practices Stiles had missed.

 

Cora rolled her eyes, but Stiles saw her hide a smile.

 

Progress.

 

—

 

After school he hung out with Scott for a bit. Not long, but it was enough.

 

They hugged it out before Stiles left.

 

It was nice.

 

—

 

Stiles actually made dinner that night. Cut up vegetables and everything.

 

His dad set the table, and they had a proper sit down meal. Then he crawled into bed early and fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

 

He woke up when his alarm went off, finally feeling rested.

 

He rolled over into a pile of blue goo that now covered most of his pillow.

 

Fuck.

 

—

 

Stiles studied his face in the mirror. There were blue tracks running down his face because apparently the blue goo had originated from his eyes.

 

What the fuck.

 

He raised a hand to wipe it away, but the gooey shit stuck to his cheeks and now his fingers. He had to pry his hand off his face.

 

He rubbed the substance between his fingers, lifting it to his nose to smell it.

 

Yeah, he still had no idea what the fuck this was. Or why exactly it came of his _face_.

 

As he stared at the strange substance on his fingers his hands started to shake. He took a breath, and tried to calm himself down before he had a panic attack.

 

Suddenly, sparks flew from his fingers.

 

Stiles yelped, scrambled backward and hit the wall. He held his fingers up higher for a closer look. Maybe he imagined it?

 

More sparkles flickered, dancing between his fingertips. When he curled his hands into fists, the sparks buzzed around the edges.  

 

Stiles stared at his hands until they stopped acting like broken wall sockets.

 

—

 

_Part 2: Fuck Progress_

 

Stiles glared down at his pillow, gingerly poking around his eyes. This was the fifth morning he’d woken up to blue goo covering his face and pillow. Apparently this was now his regular morning routine.

 

He pulled the pillow case off, and threw it into the hamper on his way to the bathroom. He ignored the way the mirror shook as he turned the shower on, not wanting to see his reflection anyway. He ignored the way the water in the toilet sounded like it was bubbling like a hot tub. He ignored the way the bath mat flipped over in its own accord, three times in a row for no rhyme or reason.

 

He ignored all of these things because if he paid attention to them, he would panic. And when he panicked, things would get worse.

 

Like yesterday, when he made the kitchen explode.  

 

It started with rattling cabinets and a few floating mugs, but the more Stiles tried to make it stop, the worse it became. It ended with half of their glasses and plates shattering into millions of pieces, and the jug of milk pouring itself over it all.

 

Stiles had watched this all happen with exhausted eyes. He barely enough time to clean all of it up before his dad got home.

 

After scrubbing all the mystery goo away, Stiles stepped out of the shower and finished getting ready for school. It was Monday, and he usually hated Mondays, but for once he was actually happy he to go to school. Maybe it would distract him from the weird shit happening. Or maybe someone else would notice it, and the theory that he was going insane could be crossed off the list. Maybe he could talk to Scott or Lydia, and they’d figure this shit out together.

 

Last week he tried to talk to them again, he slipped up at the end of the week. He was too freaked out by the blue goo to really talk to anyone on Thursday or Friday, and hadn’t made any effort over the weekend- but this was a fresh week. He was going to talk to them today because he really needed his friends right now.

 

He made his way downstairs, grunting at his dad as he walked into the kitchen. His dad snorted, and pushed a mug of coffee his way. The man had yet to notice half of their kitchen was missing, and hopefully it would stay that way.

 

“Sleep well?” His dad asked acting like he was flipping through the morning paper, but they both knew his attention was on Stiles.

 

“Yeah, fine,” Stiles said with a shrug, pushing a bagel into the toaster and ignoring the sparks that flew from his fingers. His dad was still watching him, and he didn’t mention it either.

 

Maybe Stiles _had_ finally lost his mind.

 

“I haven’t heard you have a nightmare in the last few nights.” His dad said carefully.

 

Stiles nodded; that was true. The nightmares still happened, of course, he just seemed to be sleeping through them now.

 

“That’s good. I’m still looking for a therapist who’s in the know of the supernatural. I think I have a lead, so I’ll let you know after I call them today.” His dad said, still eyeing him carefully.

 

“Okay.” His bagels popped, he dragged them out and grabbed the peanut butter. The jar rattled in his hand, but stopped moving as soon as he set it down.

 

“You know if you ever need to you can talk to me... about anything.” His dad said carefully. Stiles didn’t turn around to look at him. He couldn’t put this on his dad, not again. The Nogitsune had been bad enough.

 

“Okay,” he finally whispered. He didn’t know what else to say.

 

“Okay,” his dad repeated, standing up slowly. “I’ve got to head out, text me after school?”

 

“Yeah, sure.”

 

“Love you, kiddo,” his dad stepped forward, obviously going in for a hug, but Stiles tensed. He didn’t want to accidentally electrocute his dad or something. The Sheriff stepped back immediately, looking pained.

 

“I l-love you too,” Stiles stammered out, turning back to his bagel to avoid his dads hurt gaze.

 

“Alright, well.. have a good day.” His dad said, walking out of the kitchen.

 

“You too,” Stiles said to the empty kitchen, long after his dad had already left the house.

 

He only managed to eat half of the bagel before he gave up and left for school.

 

—

 

Scott was waiting for him outside when he got to school. He instantly went in for a hug, but Stiles pulled away when he felt his hands spark and jitter. He didn’t want to put Scott through anymore pain than he already did.

 

Scott settled for a shoulder slap, seemingly unfazed by Stiles reluctance to hug.  

 

“How’s it going, buddy?” Scott asked, walking beside Stiles into the school.

 

“Uh, I had a good sleep.” Stiles answered, not wanting to say he was fine and then have Scott know he was definitely not fine. Werewolves were lame like that, always knowing when you were lying.

 

“Awesome, man,” Scott smiled at him like a proud parent; although, maybe proud Alpha wasn’t far off?

 

They walked in silence until they reached Stiles locker. Stiles was too out of it to tell if the silence was comfortable or not.

 

“Hey, so I was thinking-“

 

Whatever Scott had been thinking, Stiles didn’t hear it. He had his lock in his hand, but he couldn’t open it. The dial was twisting and turning on its own accord, and Stiles felt a wave of horror when he realized Scott was standing right there and was clearly not seeing this. What the fuck did that mean? Was he crazy? Was Scott oblivious? Was the Nogitsune still in his head and making him-

 

“ _Stiles_!”

 

Stiles startled and dropped the lock, “yeah, sorry, what?”

 

Scott was looking at him, eyebrows scrunched down in concern, “I was asking if you wanted to come with me and the pack to the diner tonight. I know your dad’s working late, and you haven’t eaten curly fries in ages, man. I’m worried that you’re not even complaining about that.”

 

Stiles blinked at Scott, but his eyes drifted back to his lock. He twitched when sparks flew off the dial.

 

“Are you in?” Scott pressed, “Kira can probably drive if you’re not feeling up to-“

 

“No,” Stiles murmured, “not tonight. Thanks.”

 

He was at school because he had to be, he didn’t want to hurt anyone because he had a craving for _curly fries_. He was not that selfish.

 

Scott said something else, but Stiles didn’t hear it. The bell rang, and all Stiles could do was stand and watch his lock in fear. He only jolted into action when Scott moved forward and grabbed onto it.

 

“Scott, you can’t-!”

 

“It’s okay, I know the code,” Scott said, not being electrocuted by the demon lock, “did you forget it?” He asked gently, glancing back at Stiles as he pulled the locker open.

 

Stiles shook his head, numbly accepting the science text Scott passed to him.

 

“Did you see that?” Stiles whispered, pointing to the lock in Scott’s hand.

 

“See what?”

 

Stiles didn’t answer; he didn’t know how. Scott gave him a funny look, closed the locker and gently pushed Stiles through the hallway.

 

He was lucky Scott was in his first period  because he probably wouldn’t have found his way there without him.

 

—

 

Weird shit kept happening all day, but no one seemed to notice.

 

In first period science, his pen flew out of his hand and impaled the ceiling. No one looked his way, so Stiles just grabbed another one.

 

Second period, his book kept turning pages on its own. He was on page 320 when the teacher asked him to read aloud from page 105. His book wouldn’t let him turn back, so he was forced to read over Isaac’s shoulder. Isaac looked confused, but the teacher either didn’t notice or didn’t care. No one noticed the book - it closed on its own at the end of the period.

 

At lunch his water bottle tipped over and spilled across the whole table and down across the floor. Like, it went far. There was no way there was that much water in that bottle. Scott and Kira were very nice and cleaned most of it up as Stiles mostly stared blankly at the bottle.

 

Everyone kept trying to talk to him, but he couldn’t hear the words.

 

In third and fourth period his hands felt hot- too hot - and he burned one of the straps on his bag. A black handprint was now forever singed into the fabric.

 

He didn’t know if this shit was getting worse or staying the same. He didn’t know if this was actually happening or not, since no one mentioned it, but he saw the lasting effects of it.

 

He kept thinking about what _could_ have happened. The pen in first period - it _could_ have easily flown sideways and stabbed someone in the eye. His burning hot hands in the last 2 periods, they _could_ have seriously hurt someone. If he had accidentally reached out to touch them, would he have given them third degree burns? What if they touched him? Hell, for all he knew, he could grab the door and set _it_ on fire? He didn’t know if it was possible, but at this point it looked like anything was possible!

 

He didn’t want to hurt anyone. He didn’t want to be the cause of any more pain or death.

 

He didn’t know what the fuck was going on and he was terrified.

 

—

 

His dad wouldn’t be home until 8, and Stiles didn’t have the energy to make dinner for either of them anyway. He stuffed a pizza pop in his mouth and promised himself he would eat vegetables someday soon.

 

He sat at the dining room table afterwards, staring blankly at his homework. The forks and knives clattered together in the silverware drawer, but Stiles ignored it. It was easier to ignore when there was no one else around to listen.

 

He finished his English and science homework, ignoring the rest. His breath came out foggy, like it was cold in here, but in reality it was a warm spring day, so Stiles ignored that too.

 

Ignorance is bliss, wasn’t that what people said?

 

He shoved his books back into his bag, throwing it down by the front door.  He was on his way up the stairs when he paused.

 

He heard a rustling coming from downstairs.  He probably would have ignored it and continued on if he hadn’t recognized the sound.

 

Stiles sighed and stepped back down the stairs, moving down the hall, and opening the door to the basement. Well, he called it a basement. It was more like a creepy cement storage closet, but it was nice enough for mice to want to live down there. His dad used to set up traps to kill them,  but when Stiles found them when he was 10 he had cried for days about the cute little mice being killed below his feet. He hadn’t been able to sleep thinking about the poor little mice. Eventually his dad relented and bought humane traps, and now that Stiles was older it was his job to check them.

 

He paused at the bottom step, flipping on the light. Boxes of decorations appeared before him, hiding boxes of his mom’s things behind them. He ignored them all and started looking through the traps. Most were empty, but one rattled with a little, brown mouse squeaking inside.

 

He picked it up, shushing it gently as he made his way back up the stairs and outside. The little guy stopped squeaking, but he still rattled the cage every few seconds. Poor little dude was probably having a heart attack.

 

Stiles walked to the treeline, kneeling down and placing the cage in the grass. The mouse squeaked loudly again as Stiles lifted the lid of the cage.

 

“It’s okay, little dude, you’re free! Go be free!” He waved his hand, but the mouse didn’t move. He waited another moment before sighing, “come on, buddy, I don’t have all night. Get out before I’m forced to dump the cage.”

 

The cage jostled a bit, but the mouse still refused to move. Stiles gave it another couple of minutes before giving up and gently placing a hand on the trap.

 

“Here’s the deal, little dude, I’m going to dump you out. You’re going to run that way,” Stiles pointed towards the woods, “and I’m going to run that way,” he pointed at his house. “It will be over in, like, 5 seconds flat. Then we won’t have to sit here all night. Deal? Deal.”

 

He waited a few more seconds, but the mouse didn’t move. Stiles lifted the trap, turned it over slightly so the mouse would be forced to slide out. Stiles watched as the little body slid down the cage, onto the grass, and promptly exploded.

 

 _Exploded_.

 

Stiles blinked, eyes moving over the small circle of blood and guts that once had been the tiny, innocent mouse. He dropped the cage, noting it was still perfectly intact - only the mouse had- that had-

 

Stiles staggered backwards, looking down to see little tiny dots of mouse blood covering his chest and hands. Probably his face too.

 

He tripped as he stumbled backwards, falling flat on his back.  Staring at his hands, Stiles opened his mouth and screamed.

 

\--

 

By the time his dad came home, Stiles had scrubbed his skin raw in the shower. He was curled under his blankets and ignoring the twirling computer chair when his dad knocked on his closed door.

 

He pretended he was asleep.

 

\--

 

Stiles stopped touching people after that. Started flinching away whenever someone tried to touch him.

 

He avoided people as much as possible, for the most part.

 

It was safer that way.

 

\--

 

_Part 3: The Plan_

 

Derek sighed heavily, watching Scott and the pack make themselves comfortable in _his_ loft, for the pack meeting he hadn’t even agreed to attend, let alone _host_.

 

Scott sat on a stool he had pulled over from the kitchen, sitting in the center of the living room so he could see everyone. Lydia, Kira and Cora were seated on the couch, unbothered by the closeness their arrangement created. Isaac sat on the only chair, feet resting on the coffee table. Peter sat on the stairs, pretending he wasn’t a part of the pack but still here nonetheless.

 

Derek stood behind the couch, trying to look as annoyed as possible.

 

“Alright, well I guess this is everyone,” Scott started, clapping his hands together.

 

Derek frowned, glancing around again, “No, we’re missing someone.”

 

“Oh,” Scott rubbed his neck awkwardly, “Ethan decided to leave town. There are other packs he was interested in joining, and they weren’t in the town Aiden died in.”

 

Derek rolled his eyes, “not Ethan-”

 

“Oh, Malia?” Scott asked, “I know she’s, like, your cousin, but Peter talked to her dad, and he’s still trying to get her help since she was a coyote for years, and she’s probably not ready to join a pack yet.”

 

Derek stared at the boy like he was an idiot, “not _Malia_. I’m talking about-”

 

“Chris?” Scott asked, interrupting him _again_. “He’s in France. He needed some time after Allison-”

 

“Oh my God, Scott, _Stiles_! He’s trying to ask about Stiles!” Lydia burst in as she raised her hands in exasperation.

 

“Oh, Stiles.” Scott frowned, looking troubled, “uh, Stiles said he wasn’t going to come. This meeting is actually about him.”

 

“Stiles is the reason for this meeting, and he isn’t coming,” Derek raised a brow, looking unimpressed. “Seems like something he should be here for.”

 

“Yeah, well... Stiles is having a hard time right now, after the.. Nogitsune thing.” Scott said, “this is more of a meeting to tell you guys to give him some space.”

 

“Aren’t we all having a hard time right now?” Isaac asked, crossing his arms and slouching farther into the chair.

 

“Yeah, it’s only been a month. Shouldn’t we be leaning on each other more now?” Kira asked, “Bond through our pain?”

 

Cora snorted, but Derek was mature enough to hold his snort back.

 

“Yeah, totally. The Nogitsune was hard on all of us,” Scott said, giving them all a pained smile, “and I am 100% always here for you guys whenever you need me. But for, uh, Stiles.. I don’t think it’s helping. He seemed like he was improving, for a bit, but then I made him come over a few times and… and it just got worse. He avoids me now. Doesn’t even let me touch him.”

 

“I noticed that too, actually,” Lydia said, “he was participating in class again, but as soon as we actually started talking, it.. it seems like he’s worse now than he was right after it happened.”

 

Scott nodded, “Exactly. I don’t know if we pushed him too hard or.. Or what, but… I think we should stop pushing ourselves onto him. Give him a chance to process on his own.”

 

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Peter said, making them all awkwardly turn in their seats to face the staircase, “but isn’t that the _exact opposite_ of what you should do for people who just experienced something traumatic?”

 

Everyone turned back, glancing between Scott and Peter.

 

It was Lydia who finally spoke up, “Peter’s right, people who suffer from traumatic experiences and have a solid support system usually have a better chance to create coping skills and are less likely to have PTSD.”

 

“So, we shouldn’t start ignoring Stiles?” Cora asked, raising an eyebrow at the girl beside her.

 

“No, we were never going to ignore him. While Peter is technically correct, this situation is not like any you would read about in a medical journal,” Lydia said primly, “Stiles was possessed. He lost control of his own mind, and none of us, support system or not, were able to stop it from happening. I think Scott has the right idea. Stiles needs some time to think, process on his own.”

 

“Pack doesn’t abandon each other because things get hard. We can’t leave him alone while he’s at his most vulnerable.” Derek growled.

 

Lydia turned on him, lips pursed in indignation when suddenly the whole room was arguing.

 

“I don’t think we’re _abandoning-_ “

“We all need time to-“

“Stiles should have a say in-“

“What do _you_ know about-“

 

“ _Enough_!” Scott shouted, cutting through the many voices. Everyone stopped talking, and most of them still looked pissed. “We aren’t abandoning anyone. We tried the forced interaction for a month and it didn’t worked, so we’ll try the not pushing for a few weeks and see if it works. We’ll still eat lunch with him everyday, but we won’t go hunting him down. Okay? I’m not going to tell him we can’t hang out, I’m just going to let him choose when he wants to hang out. If he wants space, I’m giving him space. That’s all.”

 

The room fell quiet, everyone looking away from their Alphas, stuck in their own thoughts.

 

“I just want him to stop smelling so miserable,” Cora said, sounding more vulnerable than she typically allowed for herself. Isaac and Scott nodded in agreement.

 

Derek hadn’t been around Stiles enough to know. Guilt flared up in his chest - he should have been around to see if Stiles really was this miserable. That’s what pack did. All Derek had done was text him a few times and then shrugged it off when there was no response.

 

“We’ll put it to a vote, everyone in favor of giving Stiles space?” Scott asked, raising his own hand.

 

Lydia and Kira immediately raised their hands. Cora and Isaac joined in a moment later. Derek turned to see Peter with his hand up as well.

 

Begrudgingly, Derek raised his own and rolling his eyes when Scott smiled at him.

 

“Alright, that’s the plan. Give Stiles space and let him come to you. We’ll reconvene in two weeks to talk about how it’s going.”

 

There were murmurs of agreement, and Scott moved on to the next topic on his list. Derek stood and watched him talk, not listening at all. His chest tightening with worry that they had just made the wrong decision.

 

—

 

Things were not going well.

 

Stiles could admit that to himself as he leaned over the sink and coughed up the blue goo that was also streaming out of his eyes. This was a new addition to the mystery goo phenomenon, and it not a good sign, not at all.

 

He exhaled in relief when the sludge stopped pouring out of his mouth, and leaned against the sink to catch his breath. He had woken up choking on that shit this morning, so Stiles would go so far as to say that shit was going very badly.

 

Horrifically, even.

 

His dad called from downstairs, telling him to hurry up. Stiles shoved his thoughts to the back of his mind, and quickly climbed into the shower to wipe away the crusting, blue substance.

 

His dad was in the kitchen when he finally made his way downstairs. He pushed a mug and a bagel towards him, though Stiles just stared at it.

 

“Sorry, I’ve got to rush out. I - uh, wanted to let you know that I think I’ve found another therapist lead. I know this is the third one this month, but I have a good feeling this time. We can talk when we’re both home tonight?” His dad asked, eyeing Stiles hopefully.

 

Stiles hadn’t let his dad get within 3 feet of him in the last week, so the hopeful look was probably to be expected. It still hurt though.

 

“Yeah, sure,” he said, his voice rough from all the coughing he’d done this morning.

 

His dad frowned, but he didn’t say anything. He stood awkwardly for a moment before giving Stiles his softest smile, “I’ll see you tonight then, kiddo. Love you.”

 

“Love you too, dad, see you later.”

 

His dad nodded, but he still didn’t move. He stood and watched Stiles take a sip of his coffee, probably remembering the fact that Stiles hasn’t let him hug him for the past week. When Stiles didn’t say anything, and made no move to initiate touch himself, his dad nodded again and left the kitchen.

 

Stiles continued sipping his coffee, closing his eyes while the cabinets around him started to shake.

 

He didn’t know how much longer he could handle this.

 

\--

 

When Stiles pulled up to school in his Jeep, Scott wasn’t standing there waiting for him. Stiles frowned, and glanced around the parking lot. Scott’s bike was here, but no Scott.

 

Maybe he was sick of waiting on Stiles? He had been doing this for a month without fail… maybe he went to talk to one of his teachers.

 

Stiles shrugged it off, heading to his locker to grab some notes for first period.

 

Isaac was standing by the door when Stiles walked in the school, but he didn’t react when he saw Stiles. He didn’t stop his conversation with the girl he was chatting with, nor did he immediately start following Stiles down the hall. He merely nodded his head in greeting and turned away.

 

Stiles paused for a moment, narrowing his eyes at the lanky teen. Isaac didn’t turn his way again, and Stiles didn’t mind not having to put his energy into dodging Isaac’s questions. He shook his head and continued on down the hall, ignoring the clatter of the lockers that moved in his wake.

 

No other student commented on them.

 

He made his way to his locker, and then on to his first period class. Lydia was already sitting in her usual spot, and Stiles sank into the chair beside her. He tensed, readied himself to move away when she inevitably tried to touch him - Lydia somehow became one of the people who touched him the most now.  She always grabbed his arm or hand, fixed his hair, or pecked a kiss on his cheek and then rubbing off her lipstick smudge with her thumb. Until recently he never complain.

 

But she didn’t make a move to touch him. Instead she turned to him and asked if he had finished his homework.

 

His mouth turned dry, but he nodded dumbly. She smiled and changed the subject to the newest season of _The_ _Bachelorette_. Stiles didn’t listen and turned his attention down to his shaking and steaming hands.  

 

He knew what was happening. He understood, now, why Scott hadn’t waited for him. Why Isaac ignored him. Why Lydia didn’t want to touch him.

 

The pack was finally giving up on him.

 

—

 

Lunch was awkward.

 

It’s strange, knowing you’re about to be kicked out of a pack. Stranger still to know that everyone else already knew as well. They obviously had a meeting about this, probably that one he skipped because it was safer for everyone else if he wasn’t around. They had all gotten together and decided Stiles wasn’t worth the risk. They decided Stiles caused enough trouble, and that they would be better off without him.  

 

A part of him wondered what took them so damn long to figure it out. That same part was even a little relieved. If they gave up on him, he didn’t have to worry about hurting any of them anymore. No one around meant no one around to hurt… right? No one to burn or electrocute.

 

Another part of him… a larger part of him, if he was being honest, felt betrayed. These were his friends. His pack. His.. family… he had thought… He shoved that part aside though, because it was fine. They should all move on and be happy with their lives. It was safer without him around.

 

He left the lunch table halfway through the period abandoning his barely eaten lunch.

 

No one called him back.

 

—

 

Stiles stared at his reflection, wondering what the pack had finally seen in him that made them leave. His skin was pale, and the bruises under his eyes grew darker everyday. He looked like he had when the Nogitsune was in his body.

 

Maybe that’s what they thought - the Nogitsune was back. Or hadn’t left.

 

Or was never here in the first place.

 

Maybe they thought Stiles had snapped and killed all those people, faked the whole possession thing to get away with it. Maybe Stiles was to blame for it all.

 

Maybe Stiles would do it again.

 

The mirror in front of him cracked, lines slowly spreading across the smooth surface until Stiles reflection was warped and crooked.

 

He left the bathroom with a sigh.

He didn’t move the mirror.

 

—

 

On Tuesday he woke up choking on blue smog. It was a thick smoke that consumed his chest and left his throat in fluffy bursts every time he coughed.

 

For a minute, he actually thought this might be how he died.

 

He eventually coughed out enough of the smog so he could breathe again. No blue goo on his face today, just the blue smoke that almost killed him.

 

Fantastic.

 

—

 

The pack barely talked to him again. Cora barely looked at him in the hallway.

 

He didn’t eat lunch with them.

No one came to find out why.

 

—

 

On Wednesday he woke up to his face hitting the ceiling. His bed was floating off his floor, smashing against the ceiling every so often.

 

It was actually pretty painful. At least with the smog and the goo he stayed on the floor.

 

He jumped off the bed when it became apparent the bed wasn’t going to lower itself any time soon.

 

He heard the smash of it’s landing as he walked out the door, grateful his dad already had left and therefore wasn’t around to shoot Stiles accusatory looks.

 

—

 

He didn’t talk to anyone at school that day. He didn’t talk to his dad when he got home either.

 

His bed was a mess, but he climbed into it anyway, ignoring the way it shook at his touch. He opened his eyes to stare blankly at the ceiling, but immediately shut them again when he saw the blue smoke floating around him.

 

He still didn’t know if he was going insane or not. He didn’t know how much longer he could do this.

 

The only thing he knew was that didn’t want to hurt anyone else.  

 

It was only as he started to slip into blissful unconsciousness that he realized he hadn’t talked to anyone the whole day.

 

And no one had tried to talk to him.

 

—

 

Thursday morning the blue smog filled his room, making his eyes water and throat scratch. He grabbed his things and fled, heading to the bathroom the wash off the blue residue left on his skin.

 

His alarm started to blare again as he undressed; apparently he had hit snooze instead of off.

 

He was surprised to find a text message waiting for him.

 

 **Derek** :

_How are you doing_

 

Stiles snorted. Only Derek would type out all the words and then leave out the question mark. His questions in person were more like demands anyway, so it suited him. He didn’t reply though, and choose to step into the shower instead.

 

Derek was probably only asking because he wanted something, anyways, and Stiles didn’t have anything to offer.

 

—

 

He hadn’t talked to anyone again by the end of the day. He lay in bed and watched the lights flicker on and off, before they eventually decided to stay off. He wondered if he had blown all the fuses in the house, like Kira might accidentally do.

 

Blue smoke started to creep in at the corners of the room. He shut his eyes before it reached him.

 

—

 

Friday morning he woke up choking again. The smoke poured out of his mouth in waves, and goo streamed down his face.

 

The whole room shook around him. The picture of him and his mom fell and shattered, the shards of glass flying his way and scratching at his face. Stiles turned away, coughing up more sludge with his eyes squeezed shut.

 

He couldn’t do this anymore.

 

He stumbled out of his room, slamming into the wall to keep himself upright.

 

“Dad!” He tried to call out, but it mostly came out as a loud grunt. He paused for a minute, trying to cough out more smoke. “Dad!” He tried again, gasping what breath he could between the coughs.

 

There was no reply as he made his way down the stairs, carefully trying to keep his balance as he kept coughing. When he reached the kitchen, his dad wasn’t there. Only an empty mug and a dirty plate left behind on the kitchen counter.

 

His dad had left without even checking in on him.

 

Another wave of blue shit hit him and he doubled over coughing. He moved towards the back door as the goo spewed out of him. He needed air. Once he made his way outside he kept going, walking off the property and pushing his way through the trees.

 

He needed space. He needed to find somewhere where he could breath.

 

He couldn’t breath at home. Not anymore.

 

_—_

_Part 4: The Opposite of Success_

 

Derek was reading on the couch when Cora and Isaac come home. They all make grunts or half hearted waves of acknowledgement before they continued walking to the kitchen.

 

He didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Truly, he didn’t. It was just he hadn’t found a job yet, and he had already read through this book about 3 times. It was boring, having most of your pack in high school. So what if he listens in sometimes? It’s not like he’s hurting anyone.

 

The fact that they were talking about Stiles had nothing to do with it either.

 

“I’m just saying, it’s a stupid plan.” Cora was saying as she pushed things around in the fridge searching for food, “Stiles doesn’t smell less miserable. Actually, scratch that, Stiles smells worse.”  

 

Worse? Derek frowned. No one mentioned Stiles was getting worse.

 

“I know what you mean,” Isaac said back, “he’s been really quiet this week. And he’s getting super pale… maybe without us there, he’s not remembering to eat?”

 

Stiles wasn’t even eating?! Derek dropped the book on his lap, and gave up any attempt to read.

 

“We’ve seen him eat at lunch,” Cora said. Pulling something out of the fridge and sorting through it on the counter. “On Tuesday, when he ate with us. And I watched him eat something in the library yesterday.”

 

“He ate the equivalent of a muffin on Tuesday. I haven’t seen him eat anything since, and I’ve been keeping an eye on him.” He sighed and grabbed whatever Cora pulled out and took a bite out of it. It sounded like an apple, but Derek was pretty sure they didn’t have apples. He frowned, peeking over the edge of the couch.

 

What the hell, Cora had been hiding apples in an old potato bag? She knew he loved apples too! That conniving little-

 

“I trust Scott as my Alpha, I do. I just don’t think he’s making the right call on this one.” Isaac said.  

 

“I agree. He didn’t even seem that worried about Stiles not showing for school today. He just kept repeating that ‘Stiles needed space’ and ‘we can’t push ourselves onto him.’ He even told me not to go check on him!” Cora said.

 

Derek sat up, knocking his book to the floor and drawing both of their attention, “Stiles wasn’t at school?”

 

“No,” Cora said, frowning moodily, “and Scott convinced us all that we shouldn’t go check on him. We might ‘disrupt his healing process-’ where are you going?” Cora asked as Derek leaped off the couch.

 

“To check on Stiles.” He was out of the loft before Cora had a chance to reply reply, running down the stairs towards the Camaro. He didn’t known what he could to help Stiles, but he knew he could do this one thing for Stiles that the rest of the pack wasn’t doing.

 

He could check on the poor kid that probably thought he’d been abandoned.

 

\--

 

When Derek got the the house he frowned in confusion. There was no sound coming from inside, not even a heartbeat.

 

He scaled the tree at the side of the house anyway, jumping to the edge of Stiles window and pushing his way inside. He froze when he landed; his eyes wide as he saw the disaster that was once Stiles room.

 

The bed was in pieces, wood chipped off and mattress thrown to the side. His desk was knocked over, items strewn across the floor. There wasn’t a inch of floor that didn’t have something on top of it, whether it be paper or clothing. The walls, which had once been covered in posters and investigation pictures, were now covered in a strange blue layer of film with the ceiling looking the same.  

 

The entire room smelled harshly of magic.

 

Derek made his way to the door, frowning at the clumps of blue sludge that started from the middle of Stiles bedroom and continued down the hallway, down the stairs, and then into the kitchen. He paused there, noting the kitchen looked fine other than a few broken plates on the floor. The house smelled heavily of magic down here as well, but not nearly as much as it had in Stiles room…

 

Which meant whatever was causing this smell had something to do with Stiles.

 

Stiles, who was currently missing.

 

Heart pounding with worry, Derek took a few steps forward, sniffing the air. Stiles had been through here, along with whatever (or whoever) was causing this large amount of magic. He followed the scent, and walked out of the kitchen and through the back door.

 

It was harder to track outside, but both Stiles and the magic obviously went into the forest. A blue smudge against one of the trees confirmed it. Derek chased after the scent without thinking, running into the forest.

 

Whatever this magic was, Derek knew he didn’t want Stiles to be alone with it.

 

\--

 

The farther into the woods he went, the stronger it smelled of magic. It was thick and cloying, sticking to the back of his throat. The air was charged with the raw, unrestrained power. Derek grew more worried with every step he took.

 

What if Stiles pissed off a powerful mage? What if he found a cursed object? What if he was possessed again?

 

He shook those thoughts away and pushed himself to run faster. He was worried, but he knew he needed to stay calm and focused so he could help Stiles.

 

He paused when the smell veered left, and he breathed deeply. He stopped for a second, grabbing his phone out of his pocket as he caught his breath.

 

No signal. Just like it had been the last 3 times he’d checked.

 

Derek just hoped he could handle whatever this was without the rest of the pack. Or that maybe Cora was getting his texts anyway, despite the ‘message unable to be delivered’ he kept receiving. He didn’t know much about technology.

 

He swallowed down his nerves and shoved his phone back into his pocket. He started a slow jog this time since he was already farther into the Preserve than he thought he’d have to go, and he didn’t know how much farther it would take him. Besides, he wanted to save his energy for when he found Stiles.

 

Ten minutes later, he heard a loud bang to his right, and then a moment later realized that was where the scent trail lead. He picked up his pace and sprinted towards the noise.

 

Another bang crashed up ahead, followed by a strong wind blowing against his face. His senses were completely filled with smell of strong and raw magic. Derek hoped Stiles was still up here with it… or that if he wasn’t, he was somewhere safe.

 

Derek slowed to a walk, pushing into the wind as he made his way forward. He almost fell over when he broke into a clearing and the wind stopped entirely. He blinked his eyes, adjusting them to the now still air and bright sunlit clearing. He broke into a run again when he spotted the figure huddled in the middle of the grass.

 

“Stiles!”

 

Stiles head shot up and Derek froze.

 

Blue steam rose out of Stiles eyes and mouth.  Towards the edges of the steam, electricity sparked.  Stiles eyes were glowing the same pale blue of the steam, covering his pupils entirely. Derek stepped back when Stiles opened his mouth and lighting flashed between them.

 

“Derek, get out of here!” Stiles yelled at him. A billow of blue smoke rose out of his mouth with each word, floating into the air around the pale boy.

 

Derek shook his head and took another step forward, “Not without you!” He called back.

 

“It’s dangerous!” Stiles cried out.  Around him, the leaves started to rise on their own. The grass split open and large holes appeared in the ground.

 

In that moment, Derek realized something very important. Stiles wasn’t possessed. He hadn’t angered a mage, or gotten cursed by an ancient artifact.  

 

 _Stiles_ was the source of the magic. And he didn’t know how to _control_ _it_.

 

Derek wondered how long this had been going on. No wonder Stiles looked terrified.

 

“Stiles, it’s okay. Just calm down.” Derek raised his hands in a placating gesture as he took another step forward.

 

“No, Derek, I don’t want to hurt you! Whatever this is already- it already killed-” Stiles cut himself off with a cough, choking on whatever was still pouring out of him.

 

It wasn’t a good sign; Stiles magic was going to suffocate him.

 

“Stiles,” Derek said, taking a couple more steps, “let me-”

 

Derek wasn’t prepared for the blast that hit him. He careened backwards, slamming face first into a tree. He woke up slummed on the ground, unsure how much time he lost. Hopefully just a few seconds.

 

Derek sat up, and hastily looked for Stiles.. His vision was blurred- he raised a hand to wipe it away and wasn’t surprised by the blood. He didn’t have time to worry about it now though as Stiles was still steaming and crackling in the middle of the clearing by himself.

 

He forced himself to his feet, using the tree for support.  The moment he started walking forward again, the wind picked up. Hard.  

 

Derek felt like he was in a hurricane, and Stiles was the eye of the storm.  

 

With each step forward Derek took, Stiles’ magic built more and more of a protective circle.  Derek doubted Stiles knew he was even doing it- he looked out of his mind in distress, shouting at Derek to go back. Rocks flew through the air. Grass and clumps of grass ripped from the ground in front of Derek, and a large branch swung through the air directly in front of his face.

 

Derek continued taking steps forward.  

 

Halfway there he saw another wave of blue coming at him, but this time he braced himself. He crouched down and dug his claws into the earth. The blast hurt, but he wasn’t thrown back again. He only had to wait a moment before he was able to move forward again- this time using his claws to drag himself through the wind.  

 

When he was only a couple of yards away from Stiles, fire was added into the mix. Flames flew in circles around Stiles, and made it impossible to reach him. The only way to get to Stiles was through the flames. Derek crawled another yard forward, but stopped when he felt the heat on his face. He squeezed his eyes shut, knowing he couldn’t leave Stiles in the middle of this all by himself.

 

Derek took a deep breath, pushed the memories back, and crawled forward. He made it through the flames, and was finally close enough to Stiles. He scrambled forward and grabbed onto the boy. He wrapped his arms around Stiles and pushed Stiles head into his chest.  

 

He felt Stiles weakly try to push away, but Derek ignored him. Derek knew he had to protect Stiles the only way he knew how.

 

“Listen!” Derek yelled over the sound of the wind and the flames.“Listen to my heartbeat. Focus on me. Close your eyes and listen, breath with me.”

 

Stiles tried to pull away for a few more seconds before he eventually slumped against him. Soon the wind began to die down.

 

“That’s it Stiles, focus on my heartbeat. My breathing. The sound of my voice.” Derek said as he tried his best to soothe the boy. “Everything's okay, I’ve got you, nothing is going to hurt you.”

 

Stiles started to shake under his arms, but the fire went out, so Derek figured it was a good thing.

 

Derek rubbed a hand down Stiles back.“Don’t worry about your surroundings. It will all pass. I’ve got you, you’re safe with me.”

 

The rocks, branches, and other debris began to fall from the sky, returning to their rightful place on the ground. Stiles started to gasp for breath in Derek’s arms.

 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay Stiles, just breathe.”

 

“Derek?” Stiles said, his voice raspy.

 

“I’m right here. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” Derek reassured him, holding him tighter against his chest.

 

“What about you?” Stiles asked. Derek shook his head.

 

“Don’t worry about me.”

 

“I blew up a mouse,” Stiles said, voice cracking. “I was trying to set it free and it exploded. I broke half the plates in our kitchen. I can’t - whatever this is, I can’t stop it. I don’t even know if it’s me doing it or-”

 

Derek shushed him, running a hand over his head, “It’s okay. We’ll figure this out.”

 

Stiles was silent for another few minutes. In that time the wind around them died down, and the ground stopped shaking. By the time Stiles was breathing normally in his arms, they sat in the middle of a peaceful meadow.

 

This time when Stiles started to pull back, Derek let him. His face was streaked with blue smudges, but his eyes were back to their normal amber coloring. Derek reached a hand up to try to wipe the remnants of the slime off, but stopped when it did nothing but stick to his fingers.

 

“You can see all of this? The wind? And the blue goo?” Stiles asked, sounding scared.

 

Derek snorted and raised a brow at him, “Kind of hard to miss.”

 

Stiles laughed weakly, looking away. “No one else seemed to notice it. I thought I was losing my mind.”

 

Derek nodded and looked at the tacky goo on his fingers. “You’re not losing your mind, but you do have magic literally leaking out of you.”

 

Stiles head snapped back to him, eyes wide. “Is that what that is..?”

 

Derek lifted the sludge to his nose and smelled nothing but the heavy scent of raw magic. “That’s what this smells like. Pure, raw magic.”

 

“How did I.. why would it be coming out of my eyes?”

 

Derek grimaced as he tried to wipe the blue stuff off on his jeans without avail. He pulled away from where they were sitting and stood up. When he offered his hand to help Stiles up, he stared at it before he tentatively reached out and grasped his hand with shaking fingers.

 

Derek pulled him up, and didn’t let go of his hand; he noticed Stiles made no move to let go either.

 

“I don’t know,” he said as he started to lead Stiles out of the clearing, “but we’ll figure it out.”

 

\--

 

Derek was impressed - he’d never seen Deaton look this surprised. And right now, as Deaton examined the goo still covering Stiles face, he looked positively alarmed.

 

Derek would have laughed if it had been any other circumstance. Stiles laughed enough for the both of them anyway, but Stiles laughed like he was receiving a death sentence.

 

“Oh man, Deaton, baby, can you look a little less like I showed up with fairy wings? You’re freaking me out.” Stiles said, hopping up onto a silver exam table.

 

“I would have prefered the wings. At least then I would have known what was causing it.” Deaton said as he stepped closer to peer at Stiles face.

 

“I can’t tell if that was a joke or not. Is he joking?” Stiles asked Derek. Derek shrugged.

 

Deaton didn’t reply, and instead turned to grab some supplies from the other room. Stiles shifted where he sat. He still looked scared, but not like when Derek first had found him in the woods.

 

“We’ll figure this out,” Derek said. He tried his best to sound reassuring, but he was pretty sure it came out as more of a grunt. Stiles nodded along anyway.

 

The cabinet behind him started shaking, and Derek glanced around. He stepped back when one of the cabinet doors swung open. A box of latex gloves fell out.

 

“So, you can still see it? The stuff that’s happening?” Stiles asked hesitantly behind him.

 

“Yeah,” Derek said, stepping closer to Stiles. “I can see that.”

 

“As can I,” Deaton said as he entered the room, supplies in hand. “How long has this been going on for, Mr. Stilinski?”

 

Derek turned in time to see Stiles look down and bite his lip. Derek knew from Stiles’ reaction that this had been going on for far too long.

 

Deaton gave the boy a minute to compose himself as he stepped forward to gently peel some of the blue stuff off of Stiles face. After Deaton collected enough to fill several vials, he stepped back and crossed his arms.

 

“Stiles?”

 

“About a month,” Stiles whispered, looking ashamed.

 

Derek cursed. Deaton hummed in thought.

 

“Telekinesis. Unknown blue substance secreting from the eyes and possibly mouth,” Deaton said as he eyed the blue flakes around Stiles’ mouth. “What else has happened?”

 

“Telekinesis?” Stiles muttered, “I guess that covers all the moving shit. Stuff breaking on its own. Crap coming out of my eyes and mouth… um, smoke coming out of my mouth. Smoke coming into my room; I don’t know where it comes from. I accidently set some things on fire when my hands over heated… I froze a glass of water when my hands felt cold.. Um, weird electric things. I don’t know,” Stiles shrugged, “I don’t know if there was anything else.”

 

“Interesting,” Deaton said and moved forward to inspect Stiles more. Stiles let him, but he was tense the entire time like he was afraid Deaton was going to hurt him.

 

Or that he was going to hurt Deaton.

 

Deaton was peering into his ears when Stiles spoke up again, “So you think,” he swallowed nervously, “you think it’s all me? That I’m causing this?”

 

“That is what it appears to be,” Deaton said mildly.

 

“So I- I killed…”

 

Deaton looked up sharply and took a step back from Stiles, “you killed?”

 

Derek rolled his eyes, “he killed a mouse.”

 

“Ah,” Deaton stepped forward again. “I’m sure it was just an accident, Stiles. Clearly these powers are controlling you.”

 

Stiles jerked away when Deaton moved to inspect him again, his face contorted and his scent turned sour. “ What if it hadn’t just been the mouse? What if it was me and this.. magic that killed all those people! What if there was never any Nogitsune-”

 

“Stiles,” Deaton said calmly, cutting the man off, “the Nogitsune was real. We all spoke to it, we all saw it when it separated from you. That was not you; you did not kill those people.”

 

Stiles shook his head, “You don’t understand, I didn’t just kill a mouse! I _decimated_ it. I made an innocent fucking mouse _explode_! I don’t want to make a person explode!”

 

“No one is going to explode, and you don’t need to worry about the Nogitsune anymore; he’s gone” Derek said, stepping up beside Stiles. “Deaton’s going to figure this out, and we’ll work to help you stop it. Right?” He nodded at Deaton. Deaton, unhelpfully, did not agree.

 

“I think it might be time we call in some more pack members.”

 

Stiles frowned, “why?”

 

“Because you just gave me an idea, and I believe we will need all the help we can get.” Deaton said ominously.

 

Derek shut his eyes, stopping the growl before the humans could hear it. With their luck, Deaton had just gotten the idea that Stiles was about to die or something. This day was getting better and better.

 

\--

 

Stiles didn’t want the whole pack to be here for this, but he agreed that at least Scott and Lydia should come and be here. Derek called them while Stiles called his dad.

 

Then they awkwardly sat and waited while Deaton went off to find something in a back room.

 

“So, uh, apparently my dad noticed something happening. He was just waiting for me to come to him about it.” Stiles said, voice small. “I kind of wish he had brought it up himself. Then I would have known I wasn’t just crazy.”

 

Derek huffed, “You’re not crazy.”

 

“Seeing things move that no one else sees? Seeing things that aren’t there? Is that not the definition of insane?”

 

“I think it’s doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.”

 

Stiles huffed and cracked a small smile at Derek, “Well, I guess I was doing that too.”

 

Derek snorted, leaning farther back against Stiles exam table.

 

“Seriously though,” Stiles hesitantly reached his foot out and tapped Derek’s leg. “Thanks for coming to find me today. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t.”

 

“You don’t need to thank me.”

 

“Yeah,” Stiles said sincerely, “I do.”

 

Before Derek could think of a meaningful response, a crash came from the front desk.

 

“That was fast,” Derek said with a frown, straightening up when he heard steps moving towards the back room.

 

Stiles snorted, “Dad probably had his siren on halfway here.”

 

The Sheriff burst in a moment later, and his eyes landed instantly on his son. “What happened? Are you alright? What’s that stuff on you?” In a few quick strides he stood in front of Stiles, and grabbed Stiles’ face to move it around as he inspected it. “Jesus, son, what have you gotten yourself into this time?”

 

“Daad!” Stiles whined as his eyes glanced over to Derek. Derek smirked back, feeling amused when Stiles face flushed bright under the blue remnants. “Can you like- Derek’s standing right there!”

 

The Sheriff glanced over at Derek, and looked mildly surprised to see him standing only a foot away. He didn’t let go of Stiles though. In fact, he pulled his son in tighter.

 

“Sorry to embarrass you, kiddo, but you scared the crap out of me.” The Sheriff said into Stiles shoulder.  Stiles sighed dramatically, but Derek noticed he was squeezing his dad back just a tightly.

 

Derek looked away to give them some privacy. He was glad when Scott and Lydia showed up only a few minutes later.

 

“Dude, what’s on your face?” Scott asked as soon as he walked through the door.

 

“Magic.” Stiles said, glancing at Derek.

 

“What?” Lydia asked, peering at the tacky slime. “In solid form?”

 

Derek shrugged, “That’s what it smells like.”

 

Scott took an obnoxious sniff of Stiles face, and leaned back with a nod. “You’re right, it does smell like magic.”

 

Stiles frowned, “But you haven’t smelled that before? Like, in the last couple of weeks? That’s not what I smelled like?”

 

“No, you’ve mostly smelled like soap and.. Uh, sadness.” Scott said.

 

Stiles looked away, frowning. “I guess I’ve been rubbing it off pretty hard in the shower…” he jerked back around again, arms flailing, “oh my _god_ , that is not what I meant!”

 

Derek, Lydia and the Sheriff rolled their eyes while Scott laughed. Deaton cleared his throat from the doorway.

 

Everyone fell silent and watched as Deaton entered the room with a heavy, ancient, book in his hands.

 

“It appears Stiles is suffering from the side effects of possession.” Deaton said, setting the book down beside Stiles on the table. “Uncontrolled telekinesis abilities. New powers connecting to elemental magic. The magic overflowing from his orifices. This all points toward a remaining connection between the possessed and the possessor.”

 

“So this is from the Nogitsune?” Scott asked. Derek stopped himself from face palming. What else had possessed Stiles recently?

 

“Yes. It seems as though the connection Stiles and the Nogitsune shared was not as clear cut as we may have assumed.” Deaton said.

 

“What does that mean?” The Sheriff asked, eyebrows furrowed.

 

“It means I’m still bonded to him.” Stiles whispered.

 

“No, we severed that. The Nogitsune is locked away; the connection is broken.” Lydia said, glaring at Deaton.

 

Deaton shook his head, “Apparently not. What Stiles is suffering from is an excess of magic that does not belong to him. Through their remaining connection, the Nogitsune is pumping power into Stiles body, and the more he pumps in the more Stiles has. Stiles isn’t using it, so it is finding other ways out. Sometimes, quite literally, leaking out on its own.”

 

The room fell quiet. Stiles poked at the blue tracks on his face.

 

“How do we stop it?” Derek asked.

 

Deaton shook his head sadly, “I don’t believe we can. From what I’ve read, once this type of connection is made, it is permanent.”

 

The Sheriff ran a hand over his face, “There must be something we can do though. He can’t keep waking up choking every morning!”

 

Everyone looked at Stiles in concern. “You’re choking on it?” Scott asked.

 

Stiles looked down, “Yeah, in the mornings, sometimes… I didn’t know you knew that.”

 

“I’m your father, Stiles, and I live with you. It was pretty obvious. I stood by the door every morning until I heard you breathing again. But I didn’t.. You never wanted to talk about it.”

 

“Oh,” Stiles said quietly.

 

“Stiles, you don’t have to live like this. You can learn how to control the power, make it your own.” Deaton said. “If you don’t want to hurt anyone else, or yourself… learning how to control it is your only hope.”

 

Stiles looked away at that, eyes shut. Lydia stepped forward, and her eyes flashed dangerously.

 

Derek didn’t listen to the argument that erupted around him, and instead he watched Stiles dejected face.

 

Stiles didn’t think he could do it.

 

Well, Derek was going to have to show Stiles that he could.

 

\--

 

_Part 5: A Better Plan_

 

Shit got real after Deaton dropped the ‘our only hope is Stiles’ bomb. Lydia demanded to see the book. Scott demanded Deaton explain himself. His dad walked away, rubbing his hands over his exhausted face.

 

Stiles curled his legs up onto the table and wrapped his arms around himself. He wanted to get as small as possible. He wanted to disappear. He never wanted any of this to happen. He didn’t want to be such a burden to the people he loved. Maybe if he closed his eyes and wished hard enough everything would go back to normal.

 

That idea was immediately scratched off the list when the table under him started to shake. Stiles groaned, and pushed his face into his knees.

 

“Maybe I should just leave. Go live a solitary life out in the woods where I won’t be able to hurt anyone.” Stiles whispered to his knees.

 

“If that’s where you’re going, then I’m coming with you,” a gruff voice spoke beside him.

 

Stiles jerked up in surprised. He hadn’t realized Derek was still standing beside him. “That defeats the purpose of solitary isolation, sourwolf.”

 

Derek shrugged, “You’ll learn control faster with help. Besides, who would you tell all your lame jokes to if I didn’t go with you?”

 

“I-“ Stiles blinked, unsure how to respond to any of what Derek said. “I’m not going to learn control.” He settled on saying because that was the obvious thing here.

 

Stiles was not going to be able to do this. He was a lost cause already.

 

“You are,” Derek reached out, surprising Stiles for the hundredth time tonight when he placed a reassuring hand on Stiles shoulder. “It can’t be much different than learning control as a werewolf. We can all help you.”

 

Stiles frowned, thinking of the past week. Remembering that he wasn’t even part of the pack anymore. “I don’t think anyone else is going to want to help me.” He whispered.

 

Derek sighed, turning away from Stiles, but not taking his hand off his shoulder, Stiles noticed, to shout at Scott. “Scott, I told you your idea was stupid.”

 

Scott turned toward them, the frown on his face growing deeper when his eyes landed on Stiles curled up form. He broke away from his conversation with Deaton to step up on the other side of Stiles.

 

“What idea?” Scott asked, looking as confused as Stiles felt.

 

Derek turned back to him. “Stiles, why don’t you tell us why you think no one will want to help you learn control?”

 

By this point the Sheriff and Deaton were also listening in. Lydia was flipping through the book, but Stiles had no doubt she was listening too.  He didn’t want to answer with all of these people listening. Wasn’t it shameful enough that he’d been kicked out of the pack? Did Derek have to rub it in?

 

“Stiles, it’s okay.” Derek said. “We just want to know why you think no one will help you.”

 

Stiles sighed, not looking up from his knees while he ground out his answer. “Why would they want to help me? I’m not pack anymore, it’s not like they have any obligation to-”

 

Suddenly a warm body slammed into him, wrapping itself around him.

 

“Um-”

 

“Stiles, no, what made you think you weren’t part of the pack?” Scott whined in his ear.

 

“Maybe because you all ignored him while he was having a breakdown?” Derek said from somewhere behind Scott.  Stiles could tell he was glaring at Scott for being an idiot, he could just hear it in his voice.

 

“Oh, crap, buddy!” Scott leaned back, but only far enough that he could see Stiles face. “We were trying to give you space! You weren’t letting anyone even touch you, we thought that’s what you wanted!”

 

Stiles shook his head, “I didn’t want to make anyone else explode.”

 

Scott frowned. “What-?”

 

“He made a mouse explode.” Derek clarified for him.

 

“Stiles, the anatomy of a mouse and the anatomy of a human are entirely different. It would take a lot more power from you to be able to make any of us explode.” Lydia said primly. Stiles glanced over at her from over Scott’s shoulder. She had a hand on her hip and was looking downright annoyed at him.

 

Well, how would she feel if _she_ had been the one to kill the stupid, adorable, mouse?

 

“Oh god, I even told your dad the plan,” Scott said, frowning over at the older Stilinski.

 

“Don’t beat yourself up, Scott. I’m feeling pretty dumb right now too.” The Sheriff said with a sigh.

 

“So.. I’m still part of the pack?” Stiles asked hesitantly.

 

“Yes!” Scott said, “always.”

 

“We thought you could use a break from the supernatural world.” Lydia added in, already turning back to the book.

 

“I was against it,” Derek muttered, crossing his arms. Stiles snorted, Scott shot Derek a look.

 

“Look, that doesn’t matter right now. We can talk about it later if you want but dude, seriously, we will _all_ help you through this. You saved my ass when I couldn’t control the wolf, remember? Time I repay the favour.” Scott said, hugging Stiles once more before pulling away to stand beside him.

 

“I’m not sure this is as simple as that, Scotty.”

 

“We’ll figure it out,” Derek said with a shrug.

 

“Guys, I really don’t think-” Stiles tried, glancing between the two men, but Lydia cut him off when she slammed the book closed.

 

“I’ve already started making a plan! Let me figure this all out tonight, we will meet at the Stilinski house tomorrow, 09:00 hours. Just us, we will add in the rest of the pack when Stiles is ready.” Lydia shot them all a pleasant smile, before clutching the book to her chest and marching out the door.

 

Everyone watched her go in silence, until they heard her car start up.

 

“That was.. My book..” Deaton said with a frown.

 

“Did she just invite everyone here to our house tomorrow?” His dad asked, pointing towards the door.

 

Stiles shrugged, Lydia would always do whatever she wanted.

 

Though, she was also always right so… if she thought he could do this, then maybe…

 

Stiles glanced between Scott, Derek and his dad. For the first time since the blue sludge had appeared on his face, a spark of hope lit up in his chest.

 

Maybe with the pack, he could do this.

 

\--

 

He couldn’t do this.

 

“Stiles, stop looking at me like that, this is going to be easy!” Lydia said, waving a piece of paper in his face. Stiles grabbed at it, glaring at her.

 

“Easy for you,” he snapped, waving the paper back at her, “you’re telling me I have to get up at 5:30 _AM_ every _day_ ? To go running? And then after school go _again_?”

 

Lydia rolled her eyes, crossing her arms and glaring down at him. Stiles regretted sitting on the couch now, as she was looming over him at only 5’3.  

 

As promised the night before, Derek, Scott and Lydia had all showen up at 9 o’clock that morning… well, Lydia had shown up at 8. Deaton was apparently coming later, as he had more resources to find for them. By 9:05, Lydia had handed them all pieces of paper with a well timed out schedule and immediately started telling them all about her plan.

 

Stiles was pretty sure he had missed half of it, as he was not awake enough for this yet. It was not his fault though, he’d only gotten about 4 hours of sleep, having woken up choking (again) on blue smoke.  

 

At least this time when he had walked out of the bathroom, his dad had been there to give him a hug.

 

Now they were all scattered around his living room drinking coffee and trying to figure out the logistics of Lydia’s plan.

 

“Excess energy, right? We need to burn it off.” Derek said, nodding along with Lydia.

 

“I really don’t think it’s the same type of energy.” Stiles muttered, slumping back into the couch.

 

“Which is exactly why when you get into the middle of the forest mid run, you’re going to attempt some magic on your _own_ terms. And it’s going to be things I’m going to talk you through before hand.” Lydia held up the paper again, pointing her name out on the sheet. “With me you’re going through basic magic knowledge and training, maybe some meditation I don’t know if we need that yet. Deaton will help with this too.  With Derek you’re going to be doing werewolf training, which is mostly the physical stuff. The running, the attempting spells in the middle of nowhere with a man who has super healing. We can’t have you leaking magic anymore.. Hopefully Derek can help you with control better than I can, he is the only born wolf we trust.”

 

“Wait,” Scott interrupted her with a frown, looking down at his own printed out schedule. “Derek works with him every day, you’re seeing him 3 times a week, why am I only scheduled twice a week?.. And what am I doing in those 2 hours?”

 

“For Pete’s sake, was _no_ _one_ listening the first time I explained this?” Lydia huffed.

 

“I was,” the Sheriff chimed in, raising his sheet halfheartedly in the air, “Scott, you’re mostly here for moral support.”

 

Scott’s eyes jumped between the Sheriff and Lydia, apparently trying to decide who to be more offended by. They landed on Lydia. “I can do so much more than that! I’m Stiles’ Alpha! I can, like.. I don’t know.. Do werewolf stuff with Derek..or something.”

 

“Good argument,” the Sheriff snorted, taking a sip of his coffee. Stiles smiled, he always loved the reminder that his snark came from somewhere.

 

Scott glared at the man.

 

“Hey, I’m just happy my son didn’t explode!” The Sheriff held up his hands in surrender, though both were holding something so it didn’t look like much of a surrender.

 

“Scott, you’re going to help Stiles re-integrate with the pack. Ever since the Nogitsune there’s been a gap growing between him and the rest of us. We need to fix that, and who better than the Alpha?” Lydia said with a smile.

 

“Oh, I guess that makes sense.”

 

“Also, we don’t yet know if Stiles needs an anchor like wolves do. Reconnecting with the pack will help, but so will his family. That’s why Sheriff Stilinski is scheduled to be at home by at _least_ 7pm every night.” Lydia said, looking over at the Sheriff. The man nodded seriously in return.

 

“Alright, anymore questions?” She looked around the room, no one asked anything. Not that she gave anyone much time to. “Perfect. Derek and Scott, you 2 can go. I’m going to start the first lesson right now. Derek, be sure to come back by 4:30. We missed the morning run, but we can get the afternoon one in.”

 

Derek nodded, already heading for the door. Stiles sat up straighter in his chair.

 

“Wait, that’s not it. We haven’t even talking about the main issue!”

 

Lydia frowned at him, then consulted her notes. “We’ve talked about everything.”

 

“Um, how about the warning sign? If you choose to help here, you may explode?” Stiles said sarcastically, holding his hands up like he was reading the sign in the air.

 

“Stiles,” Lydia sounded exasperated, “we’ve talked about this, you won’t make anyone explode-”

 

“You don’t know that!” Stiles snapped back, “you don’t know what I’m capable of! _I_ don’t know what I’m capable of! I almost killed Derek yesterday, there is a really good chance I might do it again. Derek and Scott might survive it, but you, dad, and Deaton? I could kill you guys.”

 

The room fell quiet, everyone looking at each other carefully.

 

“Stiles, you aren’t going to hurt anyone.” Derek finally said, what felt like hours later.

 

Stiles shook his head, “you don’t know-”

 

“I do. I do know that. You aren’t going to hurt anyone.” Derek said seriously.

 

Stiles swallowed, “how do you know?”

 

“Because how many people have you hurt, since this started? You said yourself, no one noticed at school. You haven’t hurt anyone there. Your dad lives with you and he’s fine. You killed a mouse, but that’s it.” Derek took a few steps forward until he was right in front of Stiles, like he wanted to make sure Stiles was listening. “Yesterday, when you made a full on hurricane out in the woods? You didn’t hurt me. You hit me a few times, but nothing that didn’t heal by the time we walked out of that clearing. If you didn’t hurt me during that breakdown, you aren’t going to hurt me now.”

 

Stiles drew in a shaky breath. Fuck, maybe the guy had a point.

 

“And dude, even if that was a risk, I am totally willing to take it,” Scott said, stepping up beside Derek. “You’re worth the risk, bro.”

 

Stiles tried to smile, but his lips were shaking. Before he could get a handle on it, an arm was wrapping around his shoulders. Suddenly he found himself in the middle of a group hug. A group hug even _Derek_ was in. God, where was a camera when he needed one?

 

“We’re not going anywhere, kiddo,” his dad whispered in his ear. Stiles nodded, clutching onto the people around him.

 

When they pulled apart, Lydia waved Derek and Scott away. This time, Stiles didn’t stop them when they made their way to the door. Scott trailed behind, looking more reluctant to go. Stiles and Scott waved to each other sadly before the door was shut behind him.

 

“Ready to learn about telekinesis?” Lydia asked, pulling more books out of her bag.

 

“Let’s do this,” Stiles muttered.

 

\--

 

The first time they ran out into the woods, it was more of a brisk walk. Derek didn’t push him, probably because Stiles looked like a fucking corpse right now, but he did force him to keep up with the pace Derek was setting.

 

It was exhausting, to say the least.

 

When they made it to the halfway point, Stiles didn’t realize where they were at first. It took Derek’s numerous hesitant glances at him before he even noticed he had been here before.

 

They were in the clearing Derek had found him in. The clearing Stiles had destroyed with magic.

 

“I thought you could use this as your practice spot.. Seeing as you’ve already marked it.” Derek said beside him, looking at the ripped up grass instead of Stiles.

 

Stiles almost smiled. It was a good idea, this way he wouldn’t be destroying any more of the forest than he already had.

 

“It’s perfect.”

 

\--

 

Stiles still shied away from physical touch. The fear that he might hurt someone had been so strong, it had quickly become a habit.

 

A habit that the pack was forcing him to break.

 

Lydia always sat beside him during their sessions. Always. She was subtle about it at first, but after a few days Stiles picked up on what she was doing.

 

She was getting him used to touch again.

 

She would place a hand on his arm, always acting like it was a casual thing, and then she would remove it shortly after. Stiles had actually counted it out after he noticed her doing it, her hand was there for 5 seconds. Always just 5 seconds.

 

Two weeks in, and she often had a hand on his arm or his back. She didn’t move away when he flinched away from her hugs.

 

After the first month, he didn’t flinch away from her at all anymore. She had smiled at him with tears in her eyes when they pulled back from that hug. Neither of them had commented on it.

 

The rest of the pack followed her lead.

 

Everyone started with small touches.  A shoulder rub in greeting, and pat on the back when they were talking. Scott in particular was adamant on getting Stiles back into the hugs. It took a while, but he felt like he was now touching the pack more than he had before this whole thing started. Which was nice, since he had always been a tactile guy.

 

At school, he had an entourage when he walked down the hallway.  Isaac and Cora were often walking beside him, close enough to rub shoulders, but never more than that. Scott was usually only ever a few feet away.  At lunch everyone sat so close together now it probably looked suffocating to the rest of the world, but it felt great to Stiles.

 

He was hugging his dad again. They hugged at least 3 times a day now.

 

But the best change of all - Derek.

 

Derek had suddenly become an extremely affectionate person overnight. During exercises he always had his hands on Stiles to show him how to move properly. During their breaks, they always leaned against each other.

 

At their first pack meeting all together, Derek sat beside Stiles before anyone else got the chance.

 

Stiles loved it.

 

\--

Stiles worked on practicing telekinesis for a solid week before moving on to elemental powers. Of course, Lydia wanted to start with fire. It was the most dangerous one, so Stiles had to learn how to control it, but still. Fire.

 

Derek hated fire.

 

He sat in their little clearing for a long time before Derek asked him what was wrong. Stiles hesitated, not wanting to scare away what they had building between them.

 

“I have to practice fire,” Stiles eventually said, looking over at Derek warily.

 

Derek nodded, like he was expecting this to come eventually. He was a smart guy, he probably had been.

 

“You can leave, if you want.” Stiles offered, even though that was not what he wanted. He didn’t want to selfishly keep Derek here with him if he was going to be afraid.

 

“It’s okay, practice. I’ll stay right here.”

 

Stiles frowned, “are you sure?”

 

“Yeah,” Derek smiled at him, “I trust you.”

 

If Stiles had been standing, he probably would have fallen over. As it was, he just gapped at the man beside him. Derek leaned back on the grass like he didn’t have a care in the world, but Stiles didn’t miss the smirk on his face.

 

He had had to wait for his heart to stop pounding before he practiced any magic that day.

 

\--

Stiles sat on his bed, leaning against the headboard. Isaac, Cora and Derek had just left after a Smash Bros tournament, something Scott had planned in his scheduled ‘pack bonding time’. Though Derek hadn’t so much as played as he’d sat beside Stiles and complained that his pack was made of children.

 

It had been fun.

 

Scott was now sitting and organizing Stiles video games, having decided to stay behind a while longer. Scott probably felt like he owed it to Stiles to make up for lost time or something ridiculous. Scott was sweet like that.

 

Stiles wished he could be as good of a friend as Scott was.

 

“Hey Scotty?”

 

“Yeah?” Scott didn’t even look up from the games in his hand. Which was good, because Stiles didn’t think he could say what he needed to say with Scott’s eyes on him.

 

“I just want to say thanks, man. For doing all this.”

 

Scott shrugged, still not looking up, “it’s no big, Lydia and Derek are doing the hard stuff. Planning pack hang outs is easy.”

 

Stiles licked his lips, shaking his head, “no, I mean.. Thanks for not giving up on me. I know.. I know the Nogitsune was hard on you too, and I know it must be hard to be around me, now that we know that he’s still kind of here-”

 

“Woah, Stiles, back up,” Scott cut him off, now fully twisted around to face Stiles, “what do you mean?”

 

Stiles frowned, it was pretty obvious what he meant. “I’m just saying, it’s okay if you can’t do this all the time. I mean, the Nogitsune killed Allison- _I_ killed Allison, I understand if-”

The bed bounced from the force of Scott jumping up beside him. Stiles stayed perfectly still though when Scott wrapped an arm around his shoulders. He could do hugs now, he was in control. He could do this.

 

And Scott could probably use the hug.

 

“Stiles, _you_ did not kill Allison. The Nogitsune killed Allison. I don’t blame you for that _at all_.”

 

“But the Nogitsune and I are connected, so technically-”

 

“No. You are as much of a victim in this as Allison. Hell, all this magic crap? This is probably the Nogitsune’s attempt to kill you again! This is so not on you, man. No one blames you for anything. We’re all just happy you're getting better.” Scott said this all very fiercely, holding onto Stiles shoulders like a lifeline. Stiles appreciated his melodrama, it was really making him listen.

 

Not that he agreed with everything Scott was saying.

 

“But the Nogitsune and I are _connected_ \- “ Stiles tried to point out again, but Scott shook his head vehnematly, cutting him off again.

 

Scott sighed, “Stiles. That doesn’t change anything. The Nogitsune is still locked away, and you are still my nosy best friend who couldn’t hurt a fly… you might steal from a fly, but you would never hurt one.” Scott grinned, playfully rubbing at Stiles hair.

 

Stiles pushed him away, a grin of his own breaking across his face. The grin slipped off a few seconds later though, as he processed Scott’s words. “You really think so? That the connection won’t.. Change me at all?”

 

“No, man,” Scott shook his head, more gently this time, “you’re still you, just with some added powers. Like us werewolves. Having supernatural powers doesn’t make you a monster, right? You taught me that.”

 

“Right,” Stiles whispered, leaning into his best friend again.

 

He had a feeling that even if he didn’t believe that just yet, he would eventually. His pack would make sure of it.

 

\--

 

Stiles collapsed onto the grass, rolling onto his back to gasp for oxygen.

 

“Oh my god, how are you-” he flailed a hand at Derek, who looked fucking _fine_. In fact he looked better than he had before they started the run, all shiny and muscly and smiling down at Stiles as he lay down to die. “I can’t even-” he gasped again, giving up on talking for a while.

 

Derek laughed, sitting down on the grass beside him.  “You know, today marks our fifth week doing this.. I don’t know why I thought you would have improved by now.”

 

“Screw you, I have improved.” Stiles said between breaths.

 

Derek nodded, face serious,“yeah you’re right. I probably won’t have to carry you back this time.”

 

“That happened once!”

 

Derek smirked, not bothering to reply. He looked down at his watch, the FitBit that Stiles had gotten for him as a joke that he actually wore now. As thank you gifts went, it had been pretty successful apparently.

 

“I’m giving you 5 minutes, and then you have to do your magic thing.”

 

Stiles groaned, rolling onto his stomach. “You want me to die.”

 

“Yes, that’s why I spend my time doing this. I want you to suffer before death.”

 

“I knew it,” Stiles groaned into the ground.

 

Derek laughed behind him. Stiles would never admit that it was quickly becoming his favorite sound.

 

\--

 

“Now, when you focus on the ice, make sure you don’t touch anyone. If the mouse freaked you out, I’m doubting you’ll want a frozen limb falling on your lap.” Lydia said, entirely nonchalantly.

 

Stiles had no idea how he had missed her dark sense of humor for so long. He nodded his head though, focusing on making his hands feel cold.

 

He jerked back in alarm when his breath came out foggy.

 

The problem was, so did Lydia’s.

 

“Well, you brought down the temperature of the entire room. That’s a start.” Lydia said, grabbing the blanket off the back of the couch to wrap around her. “Now try to only concentrate on the glass of water. Focus only on the water.”

 

Stiles reached out a hand, tapping the water glass. Immediately it started to freeze, starting from the top and slowly making its way down, the water and the glass turned into a nice, shiny, solid piece of ice.

 

But it didn’t stop at the glass.

 

Stiles hopped up, waving his hands around before he finally managed to stop the ice from spreading any farther.

 

Half the table was frozen… hopefully that would thaw before his dad got home.

 

“Maybe 6 weeks wasn’t long enough.. Let’s wait a little longer before we try anymore magic outside of the forest, hmm?” Lydia said, smiling up at him.

 

Stiles laughed, “that’s probably a good idea.”

 

\--

 

“You’re doing a lot better, you know.” Derek said, leaning down on the grass beside him.

 

Stiles looked over at him with a grin, “are you sure about that? I almost buried you alive yesterday.”

 

Derek made a face at him, bumping their shoulders together, “take the compliment. You’re running faster, your endurance has improved. You look like you’re actually sleeping again. And look at you,” he raised a hand, gesturing to where Stiles was making orbs of water dance through the air. “You’ve really improved. I’m impressed.”

 

Stiles blushed, looking back to his water. One of the orbs turned itself into more of a heart shape, and Stiles was quick to let that one drop to the ground with a splash.

 

“Thank you,” he whispered, heart fluttering from Derek’s compliment. Scott had said about the same thing yesterday, but it hadn’t felt the same.

 

It felt better, when Derek complimented him. More significant.

 

Derek bumped his shoulder into his again. This time, though, he didn’t move away. They sat like that, their sides pressed against each other, for a long time. Watching as the setting sun shone through the dancing water.

 

A few more hearts popped up, but Stiles decided not to drop them. They looked cute anyway.

 

\--

 

Stiles woke up feeling refreshed. His room was the same tidied up mess it had been when he’d fallen asleep. His eyes and mouth were clear. His walls were white.

 

When he walked into the bathroom and he saw himself in the (new) mirror, he didn’t look like he had when he was the Nogitsune anymore. He didn’t have dark circles under his eyes. He didn’t look gaunt, or pale. He looked healthy. Hot, if he did say so himself.

 

His muscles had grown with all the exercise he was doing with Derek. He had gained a few pounds with the diet Lydia and his dad (ironically) were enforcing on him.

 

He looked good. He _felt_ good.

 

He was finally starting to feel like he’s got this.

He was going to survive the supernatural world after all.

 

\--

 

Derek watched as Stiles used one hand to spin a circle of sticks in the air, and then use his other hand to shoot lighting through the circle. It was very precise magic that Lydia was trying to get him to perfect.

 

And Stiles was doing an amazing job at perfecting it. Derek was impressed. More than impressed, actually, Derek was proud of him. Proud of the scared kid he had found in this same clearing all those months ago.

 

Stiles had confronted his fears, and fought for his control. He’s excelled beyond what Derek had imagined of him.

 

Yeah, Derek was proud.

 

Stiles turned and smiled at him, not noticing that when he did so the lighting hit the sticks and the entire circle caught on fire. Derek laughed, nodding toward the flaming circle. Stiles turned and frowned, waving a hand to extinguish the flame. He let the burnt sticks fall to the ground.

 

“I almost had it, you distracted me.”

 

Derek snorted, “you turned to me.”

 

“Cause you were staring at me!”

 

Derek held up his hands, “you’re right, all my fault. My apologies.”

 

Stiles looked over at him again, laughter in his eyes. As they watched each other though, the laughter faded, and Stiles started to look thoughtful. He tilted his head and smiled again, but this time, it was a sweet smile. Soft and gentle on his face. “I wouldn’t have been able to do this without you, you know.”

 

Derek felt his face heat up. He had not been expecting Stiles to say that, and had not been ready for it at all. He glanced away, trying to hide his blush. “You’re smart. You would have figured it out eventually.”

 

He heard Stiles soft footsteps approach him. He only looked up when they stopped, only about a foot away. “No, I don’t think I would have. You saved me, Derek, that day in the woods. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. Thank you.”

 

Derek’s eyes danced over Stiles face. They kept catching on his lips, then darting back to his eyes. Stiles eyes were doing the same thing.

 

“You don’t need to thank me.”

 

“Why did you do it, anyway? You crawled through a hurricane, as you’ve called it. A hurricane with branches and fire. All to get to me.. Why?” Stiles asked quietly. He didn’t look self deprecating, like he might have if he had asked this question a few months ago. He just looked curious.

 

Derek didn’t have it in him to lie.

 

“Because you were worth the pain.”

 

He didn’t know who started it, though he had a feeling it was probably Stiles. He did know that once the kiss started, he dove into it greedily. His hands were fisted in Stiles hair, Stiles’ hands were clutching Derek’s back. Stiles lips were soft, and his tongue smooth against his own.

 

The kiss went on for a long time, and when they broke apart neither of them moved away. They rested their foreheads against one another, catching their breath together.

 

“You’re worth the pain too,” Stiles whispered, “you’re worth all the pain.”

 

Derek chuckled, leaning in to reclaim Stiles lips once more.

 

\--

 

_Part 6: 7 Years Later_

 

Stiles watched as Scott and Kira hurried the little family of four across their territory lines. As soon as they passed, he stepped forward - standing on the edge of the territory and waiting.

 

Only Derek waited with him, fully human and leaning against a tree as though he was bored. He was mostly here for company, in case this took longer than expected, but Stiles also knew Derek liked to make sure Stiles had back up if he needed it.

 

Not that he ever needed it.

 

“They’re in the van,” Derek said a few minutes later, “Scott said to let him know how this goes later.”

 

Stiles had gained many things from his connection to the Nogitsune, but enhanced hearing was not one of them. He nodded  in recognition of the words, not turning away from his position.

 

Derek leaned back against the tree.

 

It was only a few minutes later when the first of them began to arrive. Slinking through the shadows of the trees, the pack stayed within sight but far enough enough away to feel safe.. To _feel_ safe, Stiles could still totally reach them from here. Not that they knew that.

 

It was only when one large man stepped forward that any of them dared to approach the territory line as well.  The man had arms the size of tree trunks, and a scowl that could rival even Derek’s. He stopped just shy of a foot away from the territory line, leering down as Stiles. His pack fanned out behind him.

 

They probably thought they looked very impressive, and to anyone else, they probably were.

 

Stiles thought they were adorable.

 

“You must be Donald.” Stiles said, looking up at the man calmly.

 

He bared his teeth at him as he replied. “You know who I am, and you know why I’m here. Give them to me,” the man snarled angrily.

 

Stiles pretended to think about it for a second, and then shook his head, “no, I don’t think I’m going to do that. See, your sister? She came to _us_ . She told us all these stories about you guys, and how mean you are, and how you wanted to sell her, sell your _own_ sister, to some other pack as a bride, even though she was already married with two kids.” Stiles waved his hands around flippantly like he was an old grandma going on a long winded story about nothing in particular. “So I told her, Sally, darling, come live in Beacon Hills. It’s warm, and we’ve got good schools, and we can shoo away that presky brother of yours if he shows up. And she agreed! So now she’s here, and now I’m going to shoo you, her presky brother, away. So shoo.”

 

Stiles waved his hands at the man. The man snarled at him.

 

“You’re just one man and a wolf, you can not stop me from taking back what’s mine,” the alpha shifted fully, fangs and claws out, and he lunged at Stiles-

 

Or, he tried to. Stiles held him in the air with a smirk, watching as the man’s face shifted from furious, to confused, to terrified.

 

“Can’t I though?”

 

With a simple flick of his fingers he sent dumb old Donald flying backward, zooming past his pack until he slammed into a tree. He didn’t bounce back to his feet.

 

The wolves around him looked both pissed and terrified. Though some were clearly more pissed than others.  3 wolves darted forward, but Stiles waved his hand and easily sent them all flying backwards as well.

 

No one tried to lung at him after that.

 

“I suggest you all leave, and forget all about Sally and her family. She’s happy here, and you’re all happy with all of your limbs intact! It’s a win win,” Stiles said with a smile.

 

No one moved. The fallen wolves started to stumble back to their feet. One of them glared at Stiles, teeth sharp in his mouth. “You can’t just-”

 

Stiles raised his other hand, letting large sparks fly, “did we not just cover what I can and can’t do?”

With a flick of his wrist, a bolt of lighting came down in the middle of the pack, causing them all to jump back in alarm. They all turned to stare at him in shock.

 

Stiles rolled his eyes, “this is the part where you run away.”

 

The majority of the pack did not need to be told twice, and the rest fled with their brothers when it was clear they were being left behind.  No one cared enough to even drag their Alpha away with them. Stiles didn’t mind, the barriers he had up around Beacon Hills would keep him out.

 

He dusted off his hands and turned to face his wonderful husband, who was watching him with amusement.

 

“Having fun?” Derek asked.

 

“You know it!”

 

Stiles and Derek fell in pace beside each other, fingers twined together. It was nice that Beacon Hills had turned from being a place that had been feared by the supernatural world, to a place that was seen as a refuge to the supernatural world. A large part of that was their pack, and their willingness to help and support anyone in need.

 

Another large part was Stiles, who has yet to meet anyone who could match him in a fight… though there was one witch who had given him a good fight a few years ago. Stiles still looked back on her fondly.

 

The best part though? The really fantastic amazing part that had come out of the mess they had suffered through in high school? Stiles had somehow managed to nab the hottest person on the planet. And he definitely had put a ring on it.

 

“Want to go to the diner and get some curly fries before you call Scott?” Derek asked, smiling over at Stiles because he knew the answer already.

 

Yep. Life was great.

 

\--

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are always appreciated!
> 
> [Come say hi on tumblr!](http://happyjuicyfruit.tumblr.com/)


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